I had no idea when I started this that so much space would be taken up with confessionals, but apparently there has been a need to get a lot of stuff off my chest lately.  I’ve struggled with my role as a Christian businessman, I’ve admitted my fears, and now it’s time for me to confess a deep, piercing addiction…

I’ve been addicted to all sorts of things before, some of them quite unhealthy, others a little more subtle.  Some of the more subtle (and yet quite damaging) addictions to surface recently:

My need for Affirmation.

My tendency toward Busyness.

My constant running toward Distraction.

 

Years ago, my wife and I decided that we would have a “no screens” policy while on family vacations (yes, nowadays phones are screens too).  Sure, we let the kids play on the iPad while we’re on the road to avoid them killing each other out of boredom, but once we arrive at our destination, often times a cabin or a condo, we go on complete shut-down. 

And this includes me—I power down my phone, put away the laptop, and it’s just us.

It forces me (and all of us) to be present together, and we’ve found that our family vacation times are full of rich memories which we cherish for months after we get back.

Except, of course, once we get back, life takes over and hijacks all of our time, making us wonder how vacation could be so sacred, and home be so… regular.

And so, in an effort to mimic what we experience on vacation, we decided to take a mini sabbatical each and every week from technology.  Our “Sabbath” runs generally from around 4pm Saturday to 4pm Sunday; we turn off all phones, resist the pull of the television, and exchange video games for board games and decks of cards.  We have family breakfast together on Sunday mornings, and make the concerted effort to engage one another.

Sometimes we’ll go on family hikes in the local mountains, other times to the soccer fields to make up some family athletic contest.  Sometimes we’ll pack a picnic lunch, other times we’ll grab a bite out.  The point is togetherness without distraction, where our children know they are the focus of our attention for the day.

Now—don’t’ get me wrong—I often wake up earlier than I want to on Sunday mornings because my three boys require an adult with a referee’s jersey on in order to avoid ripping the house (or each other) apart to its foundations, so don’t think we have a perfect little situation going on over here. 

But we make the collective effort to be together, and every single time we’re glad we did.

 

And that’s when my addictions began to surface.

As much as I enjoy powering down my phone, I find that in “down moments” I tend to walk by the phone, look at it adoringly, and wonder how many messages are waiting for my eager response.

I refuse to turn it on to check, but my mind goes there nonetheless.  Often.

So if I can’t check the phone, I’ll often read the Sports section of the paper, followed by the Travel section, and then sometimes the crossword.

I’ve found there is a very fine line between relaxing and escaping, and I’m very proficient at the latter.

We make a point to carve out time to engage with one another, and I’m running to mythical vacation spots in my mind, escaping the present to dream about the future.

Once I’ve exhausted the print on the newspaper, I then pick up a book I’m reading, working on edifying my mind, enjoying a cup of coffee while I put my feet up. 

Nothing wrong with any of this, but I’ve noticed that internally, it feels as though I am running from something.  Running from the present and straight to the idol of Distraction.

I have a hard time engaging with genuine rest, and instead often choose to busy myself with “good distractions”.

These internal battles typically happen in the mornings, but once we get out of the house I generally snap out of it and find myself deeply enriched by our family time, embracing the slow pace of the day.

Until we get home, and the addictive pull takes over once again.

Now, to be honest, I’ve found a lot of victory over this pull, and my self discipline keeps me from “plugging back in” to check in with reality for the day.

But internally, I notice that the struggle is rooted in a belief that my friends, the business I run, even the Facebook world, requires my input in order for things to continue to run smoothly. 

And so I notice I’m addicted to a feeling of self-importance, which I think is rooted in a need of affirmation from others.  For when I am busy juggling multiple projects, conversations, activities, I feel like I’m being useful and important, and that feels good.

 

What’s interesting is what happens after our Sabbath time is over.  Our entire family runs to their preferred technological medium with almost a frantic urgency: our boys to the X-Box and iPad, my wife to her computer, and me to my phone.  Sometimes it feels as if we collectively count down to 4pm and then withdraw and scatter to our own devices.

And my behavior is right on par with any other addiction: you find yourself constantly thinking about “it”, especially when you don’t have it.  When you finally have access to it, you run frantically to it, expecting a sense of deep fulfillment.

Except that the fulfillment lasts a minute or two at most.

Every single time, when I plug back in, I find myself either burdened, stressed, or let down.  Sure, there are some funny text messages to reply to, and sometimes some exciting work-related emails to address, but they really don’t fulfill like I expect them to.

Because in my experience, addictions don’t live up to their hype.  They entice, they beckon, they call and cajole; but ultimately they let us down because they don’t fill what we’re really in need of.

I thirst for affirmation, but I’m not going to find that in a text message.

I run toward busyness and distraction, but why?  What is it that I’m running from in order to run to these things?

 

I’m starting to re-think what King David means when he writes in the Psalms, “As a deer pants for water, so my soul thirsts for you”.  I used to read it in admiration of his level of spirituality and his closeness to God.

But I’m starting to wonder if maybe it’s more a reflection of his wisdom and knowledge of his true self than anything else. 

Because I notice that my soul thirsts for something, very much like a deer pants for water.  And I try to drink from so many different wells, but still end up thirsty. 

So maybe David is on to something here—perhaps he knows the great Secret; that what my soul is actually thirsty for can only be found in God himself, and not in all of these imposter beverages that I tend to run to instead.

And our little family Sabbath is teaching me this, one small step at a time.  And for that I am grateful…